Not Again
by nakala
Summary: He can't honestly say when it happened, but when it did he knew it had been happening for quite some time. He'd seen her without seeing her. He'd fallen for her without knowing.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Drop Dead Diva fic so read and review. **

**It's AU after tonight's episode and for now it's just a one-shot, but if I get enough feedback with readers wanting more I'll add more the next portion having dialogue. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Drop Dead Diva or anything related to it that could get me sued. **

He watches her from his office. Busy. She's always busy. Since Owen. During and after. He can't honestly say when it happened, but when it did he knew it had been happening for quite some time. He'd seen her without seeing her. He'd fallen for her without knowing. She was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman, his unconditional love for Deb notwithstanding. Aside from her looks, she didn't add up, but there was something about her that he couldn't ignore.

Jane. She has that something coupled with a big heart, smarts, and welcoming smile. She's beautiful. His heart lurches when he sees Owen waltz through the elevator doors. She'd left. Just up and left, and it was then that he knew he couldn't live without her. Sure she was his best man and more best friend than coworker, but his feelings for her ran deeper than that. She'd been there for him since he was hired. The only one willing to help out the newbie void of ulterior motives. Kim Kaswell. Unfortunately, he'd been too dense to realize it until she decided to run away with some guy she'd only been dating two months at the most.

It was his fault. He can't say that he didn't have an idea that she might have had feelings for him, but it didn't matter because she was just Jane, not his type and there was her all too Deb-like personality at times that scared the crap out of him. Because of this, he'd let her escape his reach. She ran off to Italy with Owen; fell in love with the prick, only to have him disappear after proposing to her. A proposal that coincided with his attempt to finally tell her how he felt. But that creepy investor held him up and the moment passed forced into congratulation on an engagement he wanted to shove so far up anyone's butt he couldn't see straight. Yet, when things fell apart for Jane he didn't seize the opportunity. He just lingered in the background careful to say the least to his friend for fear of capitalizing on her heartache, trying to give her time. But Parker had to compel him to play lawyer pimp to the shark of a woman with money in an effort to woo her to finance the firm. Not something he wanted to do, but saw no reason in foregoing the action.

He can see it all through his office window. Owen enters Jane's office without knocking. She's startled. Pain and anguish pass over her face taking residence. The aforementioned man lowers his head avoiding her gaze. Words are spoken. Gestures are made, but both remain firmly planted where they are. Her beautiful brown eyes enlarge. She can't believe what her runaway fiancé is saying. The former judge takes a step toward the lawyer, but his move is met with a swift palm to his pudgy cheek. Jane is screaming. He can't make out the words, but he hopes she's reading him his rights. He doesn't deserve her. He didn't deserve the privilege of kissing her supple lips.

Kiss. They almost kissed once. Or maybe more than once. It doesn't matter because he never followed through. He always allowed some outside entity to barge itself in between his thin lips and her plump ones. There was this one time when nothing got in the way. Where it was just him and her secluded with no distractions, and had it not been a dream he would have the memory of the feel of her lips on his.

His body jumps up involuntarily when she rushes to the elevator, but his mind stills his moving feet. What does he say? How could he be there for her without it being awkward? He's never been there before. There was Tony; she was happy. Then he was gone, and she was sad. But he was never there. He never wiped a tear. Never held her in his arms. Not like she did for him. Not like she was there for him when his wedding blew up in his face. Not like when she planned his shotgun wedding for him. How could he be there for her now? She wouldn't want him. But _he _wants her. He _needs_ her. Ignoring his mind, he follows his heart, but finds the elevator empty when he reaches it. He's too late again; however, this time she isn't boarding a plane she's probably just going home.

He arrives at her apartment complex instantly spotting her car in the parking lot. His blood freezes. What does he plan to do? Say? He couldn't just barge in professing his love for her. Because he does. Love her. But she's not ready for that. He doesn't even know if he's ready for that. But he's here now, so, he might as well check on her to see if she's okay.

Standing at the door, his hand hovers over the knocker. He has to do it. He would be remiss not to, but he's afraid. He might make things worse. She might want Owen instead of him even if she just slapped him.

The door flies open and he's faced with Stacy. She's talking; he sees her lips moving, but his ears aren't listening to her, his eyes too preoccupied with what's happening behind her. When she finishes he's ushered inside as she exits.

He's been in Jane's home before. Plenty of times. Before Deb died and after. All those times he knew exactly what to do. He was either visiting his girlfriend or working on a case with his friend. Right now, he's standing in the living room alone, hearing Jane crying in a backroom.

His feet carry him towards the whimpering woman. The sight before his eyes causes his heart to drop. She's balled into the fetal position sobbing over worthless Owen. He doesn't have to think about it. It just comes to him and he's on the bed holding her to his chest rubbing her back whispering in her ear.

Realization doesn't don on her until she's quieted. He sees the acknowledgement in her eyes, can feel it in her stiffened posture. All of his fears come rushing to the surface. He apologizes and moves to get up stopping when her soft hands grip the lapels of his jacket. Slowly, he eases back onto the bed a small surge of hope springing up within him. She's not ready for his love, he knows this, but she wants him around and for now that will have to do.

**Alright that's it for now or forever. It's up to you so let me know what you think and don't be shy I can take constructive criticism. Hope you liked it. **

**nakala**


	2. Chapter 2

She'd fallen asleep in his arms after crying her heart out. He'd watched her sobbing turn into quiet snores. Again, he was faced with a situation where he didn't know what to do. Should he stay? If he did, when she awoke would she want him gone? Should he leave? He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He could stay wrapped around her forever, but should he? He'd decided to leave, it would be best for all parties involved if he just left. She probably wanted to be alone when she finally woke up. That would be understandable. Fortunately, he didn't have to follow through. As he made a move to leave, she tightened her hold on his waist. He would be staying.

He observed her for hours. Day turned to night and with the rising of the moon his eyelids fell and he reluctantly drifted into sleep as well.

He awakes long before she does, after trying to roll over, but finding it impeded by the arm clutching his waist and a shiny head of dark brown hair snuggled into his chest. The sun has yet risen, but he can't bring himself to return to slumber. He takes to watching his friend as gentle snores escape her. He's always watched her. More often than not he found himself watching her. And each time without fail he'd found himself amazed with her drive, her compassion, and her determination. Jane never gave up, just like his Deb. Eerily so. Once she set her mind to something, she did everything in her power to accomplish it. That's why he admires her as a person, a lawyer. Why he's patterned his career after hers, though, he'd never admit it out loud.

Watching her as she sleeps, he takes her in. He wants to remember her beauty. He wants the feel of her in his arms to linger in the crevices of his mind. As far as he knows when she opens her eyes, reality will have its way and she'll kick him out without a thought.

She stirs. Draws closer to his side. Muffled moans make their way to his ears, but he can't decipher them. For a moment, she settles before starting up again only this time it's very clear.

"Owen."

He is abruptly dragged back to reality as the utterance sails from her mouth. All of his fears are confirmed. It's not him she's holding on so tightly to, but her erstwhile fiancé who has handled her heart so carelessly. His fingers trail along her jaw line until reaching the hair that has fallen into her face from her previous movements; he brushes it away continuing to watch her sleep.

Time passes and he continues to watch her. Watches her moan Owen's name, whimper his name. He watches as tears stream from her sleeping eyes. This time, instead of ignoring them, he rubs them away with the pad of his thumb vowing to himself that if she allows him, he'll be there to wipe every tear she sheds.

He's playing with a strand of her silky smooth hair when her brown eyes open. He quickly pulls his hand back before she can notice. "Hey." His crooked grin plays along his lips trying to hide his anxiety.

The gesture isn't returned. Jane pulls her hand from his body and slides away from him. Her eyes are alight with a mixture of emotions. At the forefront is embarrassment and he wishes their relationship was different. That he'd been there for her in the past. The shoulder to cry on so that now he wouldn't have to find a way to get out of her apartment without feeling like an idiot.

"I'll just be going." He gets up from the bed without an argument from the woman he spent the night with. He's already outside her bedroom door when he hears her call his name.

He doesn't think about it, figures he never should have in the past, doesn't weigh his options, or try to find the right words to say; he just turns around and goes back into the room.

Jane has shifted to a sitting position with her back to the backboard of the bed. Her head is downcast and her body shaking from her weeping. The urge to rush to her side causes his body to jerk, but he stays put. He doesn't want to overstep her boundaries. Sure she called him back, but he doesn't know what for. The tears streaming down her face and her trembling form are the only things to alert him of her crying at first. Then almost instantly it turns into sniffling wailing.

"Jane." There is a question that his inflection barely betrays. He's seeking permission to comfort her. Why? He doesn't know. She's never asked him if she could hug him when he was feeling down or if she could be his shoulder to mope on; she just did it. When he woke from his coma, he'd found her there. He'd come to later find out that she had been there every day visiting him and praying for his recovery. No one else had been there as she had. Be he's not her, and he doesn't just do it, though, he's hard pressed to answer why he doesn't just be there for her.

Her eyes locate his and they're swarming with such agony and need. She _needs_ someone. She _needs_ him. Someone to hold her, who won't cry with her, but be strong where she can't. She's asking him to be there for her and he finally does. For once, he walks over to her and pulls her in for a hug. "There, there, Jane, it's okay. It's gonna be okay." His words sound awkward to him and he berates himself for it but he's trying.

"Okay? But…he proposed a-and-and j-just left. He left me!" Dissolving into a fit of tears he can barely make out what she's saying save a few words. "They-leave-Tony-terrible girlfriend-Owen-hate."

He doesn't say anything, letting her empty it all out on him.

In an attempt to calm her down he rubs her back in circles. It isn't working, but he knows the chances that it would were slim. Jane is an emotional person. From what he hears around the office, she wasn't always like this, but since being shot she's become a different person. So he's not shocked when she jumps from the bed hands flailing pacing ranting and raving about her good for nothing joke of a fiancé. She's halfway through every profanity in the English language when the doorbell rings.

Jane looks to him then goes to her mirror to fix her face. When she deems it suitable, she puts on a smile, a pitiful one but one nonetheless, and makes her way to the front door. He doesn't follow right away, knowing his place, but a feeling in his gut makes him rise from the bed to join her in the living room. The sight in front of him when he gets there causes his stomach to drop.

In the threshold, Owen and Jane are kissing.

**So what do you think? After Sunday's episode I kind of got off track because I was so mad at Grayson for moving on so fast. Wasn't he just about to tell Jane he loved her a little while ago and now he's got another lady? What is that about? I almost made Jane slap him but that's not the story I'm writing. But it did give me some angst to work with. Hope you liked it. Don't know how I feel about it yet. Already working on the next chapter and possibly a sequel in Jane's pov depending on the ending of this story. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I want to give a hearty thank you to all that reviewed the last chapter and those who favorited or followed. **

For every step he makes towards anything more with Jane, he's pushed back two more by his own negligence or a very obnoxious outside force.

The first time he thought he had feelings for her was during her relationship with Tony. His nights were interrupted by these weird reoccurring dreams involving Jane. He'd spoken with Stacy about them and she seemed to think they were a sign, but when he was face to face with the lawyer, with her eager brown eyes gleaming at him he couldn't follow through. What he thought and what he felt didn't match up, and though there was a shadow of the emotion there it wasn't enough to interrupt the happiness she obviously had with Tony.

Since then pure and simple bad timing halted any progress. He couldn't wait for her. Wouldn't wait for her. A decision he regrets each time he sees her with someone besides himself. The signals he transmitted to her were mixed at best, definitely more jumbled than clear. How could they have been anything but, when he wasn't aware of the depth of the feelings he had for the majority of the time and unsure of them the rest? The only time he knew without question that what he felt was love was the first time he saw her with Owen. There was something about the man that rubbed him the wrong way. He knew that the judge threatened the possibility of him and Jane. He's a judge, charismatic, and clearly into her. What woman wouldn't fall for someone like him?

The bane of his existence has his hands on Jane's waist the tension in his fingers giving away the firm hold Owen has on her. The sight causes his stomach to churn and bile to rise in his throat. He's losing a game he has yet begun to play. The kiss lingers longer than he thinks it should, but before he can clear his throat to draw their attention, Jane jerks out of Owen's embrace pushing him back gently.

"How dare you?" The pain and anger apparent in her voice isn't lost on either man.

He can see the wheels turning in Owen's head to figure a way to mollify her. "Jane, just let me explain."

"Explain, Owen? Maybe you should have done that before you decided to disappear. I don't want to hear it."

They bicker back and forth neither acknowledging his presence. Owen very well may not even know that he's standing in the kitchen leaning on the counter watching the lovers quarrel, and Jane has forgotten him altogether. He stands in the background observing their interaction. Inspecting the words she uses, her body language hoping for something to reveal to him that she is truly finished with Owen. Instincts urge him to wait, so he does. He waits.

Owen runs his hand through his already unruly cropped hair. Frustration and guilt mar his face. He begs Jane to listen. To hear him out. She shakes her head putting her hands up in defense. She doesn't want to hear what he has to say. He reaches to touch her, but she backs away, halfheartedly. He waves his hands as a sign of surrender. He will not touch her. He just wants her to give him a chance to explain. She considers him for a few seconds. Only for a few seconds before she gives in.

He wants to interfere now, but he can't he has to wait. If he'd waited before instead of taking up with Kaswell or his runaway bride, he wouldn't have to wait now. He would be with her now.

Jane raises her lowered head making eye contact with her ex-fiancé. In that moment, Owen rushes to her one hand grabbing her shoulder the other caressing her cheek. Unflinching, she permits his hands to touch her giving Owen the opportunity to explain himself.

To the man lurking in the back, it seems like a load of bull. Who disappears without mention leaving their fiancé in the lurch because he needed to get away to make sure he was making the right decision. Clear his head. Bogus. Owen is a judge, a very diplomatic one. He literally makes life or death decisions on a daily basis, why would he need to go away to know if he wants to be with someone as great as Jane?

As Owen spews his explanation, Jane stiffens. Shaking her head she backs away from him pushing his hands from her. The disbelief in her eyes is no preface to the abrupt about face she does.

Her eyes meet his easily exposing the distress she's drowning in. However, the moment he registers what he's seeing it dissolves replaced with another that incites fear in him. Had his instincts been wrong?

Owen finally peruses his surrounding and his eyes land on him. "What is he doing here?"

Jane ignores Owen, however, continues glaring at him a tortured scowl plastered across her face. "That is none of your business."

What is she doing? His eyes bug out in confusion. She couldn't be doing what he thinks she's doing, not that Owen doesn't deserve it.

"It's early; his clothes are disheveled and so are yours. I think it is my business that the woman I'm engaged-"

"Hold it right there," Jane spins around fiercely and it's as if he's been forgotten again, "if you think we are anything but estranged you are sorely mistaken. We are no longer together; therefore, it is _**not**_ any of your business why he's here."

He bristles at the implication, but he doesn't speak up. It's not his place and he wouldn't if it was because he is relishing the look of utter indignation on Owen's face.

"Jane what's gotten into you? I'm trying-"

Her posture deflates, but her voice carries her waning strength. "Owen, I can't be bothered with you trying because you didn't _try_ to contact me when you were off doing who knows what; Christ, you didn't even _try_ to talk to me about what you were feeling before you just deserted me." Fighting back tears, she musters the tenacity to look Owen in the eye. "I think you should leave."

He thinks he should leave too. Owen hadn't seen her completely depleted from all the crying. He hadn't listened to her bemoan his name reaching out for a phantom because Owen couldn't try sooner. Because Owen didn't know the value of the woman that he often undervalued, Owen should leave. He would make sure he did, if it goes that far.

"I'll leave, but-"

"Please don't come back. Owen we are over." Jane turns away from the judge. She doesn't say anymore as she passes him in the kitchen avoiding his gaze on her way to her bedroom leaving Owen and him in the living room alone.

He doesn't move from his spot his glare reaching Owen whose body moves of its own volition towards him fury boiling in his blood. Before Owen crosses the room to his still form, the deserter opens his mouth midstride, however belated. "I think it's better if you just leave."

Owen's feet freeze in motion. "You think – oh, so now you're speaking for Jane?"

"No I –"

"I've been with Jane for several months and yeah, I've seen you around – _**around**_. You and Jane are coworkers, not friends. She has only mentioned your name when speaking of work, nothing more. So why are you here now?" Owen pauses for a moment glowering at him, but not long enough for him to interject, "You have feelings for her." Sudden realization dons, "You care for Jane." The accusation has been made and the just judge allows him time to refute his claim, but this time there is only silence. "This is unbelievable. You've definitely known her longer, worked with her, and you wait until I come back to fix things with my fiancé to make a move on her. Can't say I respect that. Did you sleep together?"

"What does it matter?"

Owen's incredulous eyes pierce him.

Just to rub a little salt in the wound. "If you love her, then you'll forgive her."

They stare each other down. To the winner goes the spoil. They've been in this position before, playing in a competition that wasn't stated, a game of ball. It was unspoken, but definitely implied. They were playing for Jane. Owen won, but has found a way to squander the winnings. And just like then, the decision isn't up to them. Never was. It belongs to the woman more than likely crying her eyes out in the other room. But what decision? She hates her recently returned now ex-fiancé, and the other has been avoiding her feelings and ignoring his for so long that he can't even be certain the feelings he believes she once had still remain. In essence, there is no choice to be made, no need to be in a Mexican standoff when he could be smothering Jane with the support she needs.

Shaking his head at the man in front of him, he concedes leaving Owen to join Jane in her room. Upon reaching her door, he hears the front door slam shut.

The image of her scowling at him glides into his mind stalling the hand holding the knob to Jane's room. Instead of prancing in on her like he owns the place, he knocks.

"Go away."

"It's me, Grayson."

Her sobs echo past the closed door. "I-I don't care. Go away."

"Jane, come on, let me in." A reply does not come his way this time only the sound of more crying.

It's becoming easier. Becoming almost like second nature to be there for her without permission because he knows she doesn't give it willingly. She's a strong one, that one, preferring to ride it out alone even if there is someone there to bear the load with her. Therefore, he'll have to force his way in. When he opens the door, he doesn't find her balled up on the bed, but standing by the window attempting to stifle her weeping. Slowly he makes his way to her. He stands behind the woman a hand resting on her rising and falling shoulder. He squeezes it to make sure she knows and understands that he's there for her. Immediately, her face is buried in his chest wetting his wrinkled two day old white shirt. No words pass from his lips as he gathers her in his arms. Words are not needed from him. So he doesn't offer them to her. Words wouldn't help the matter. How can anything he says take away the pain inflicted by someone she's given her heart to? It can't, so he keeps his mouth shut doing what he should have done all along.

With her still encased in his arms, he ushers her to the bed. Sitting side by side his arm shifts from her shoulder to her waist hugging her close to him. Her head automatically falls on his shoulder soaking his coat with the tears flowing from her red eyes. Her woeful quaking fades into sniffles, but as quickly as they subside they overtake her yet again. Though he can't possibly hold her tighter, impulsively his arm clutches her in response to her distress. He wishes there was something more he could do. Anything he could do to mend Jane's broken heart. He's not much of a fighter, never has been, but listening to the woman he loves pouring her fractured heart onto his shoulder, he'd give just about anything to make Owen hurt even an iota of what he knows Jane is feeling.

Some time later her convulsive bawling ceases leaving an uneasy tension in its wake. However, the two sit silently letting it roll over them unsure of what comes next. He's never been in this position with Jane to this extent and fears speaking may make the mood more awkward. Yet, as awkward as the moment seems, he would rather be here with her than anywhere else in the world.

Lost in thought, he's shocked by the sudden void he feels when Jane untangles herself from him. His gaze follows her as she grabs a few tissues to clean her face. Finishing, she glances at him reluctantly casting him an apologetic smile. "Sorry about…your jacket."

"Huh?"

"Your coat, you can send me the bill. I-" she points to the large wet spot on his shoulder.

"What? Jane, you don't have to do that – what's a wet shoulder for a friend." His smile is wide and bright. For the first time since he's been with Jane over the past day and a half she returns it with a little spark of the old Jane present.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being here. I – just thanks."

"You don't have to thank me for that anytime you need me, Jane, I'm here. Anytime."

She hugs him. Initially, he doesn't respond, but once the scent of freesia hits his nostrils, he wraps his arms around her almost crushingly so. Surrounded by her his mind goes blank. He doesn't quite notice her eyes seeking his when she pulls back from the embrace. Eventually he comes to his senses finding himself gazing at her with lidded eyes. He needs her to back away, but she does the opposite. She eases her lips onto his. At first, cautious, however when he responds eagerly she matches his fervor. Her hands hurriedly help him shrug from his suit coat. His hands fist her hair pulling her closer to him. He can't believe this is happening. Before he can process what they're doing, Jane's lips leave his, ripping his mind from all rational thought, but the separation is short-lived as they find his jaw line trailing to his neck where they remain over his pulse point. Her ability to multitask astounds his swimming mind; he's been stripped of his shirt and she's helping him remove his undershirt, though, he swears he hasn't felt her lips depart his flesh long enough to accomplish all of this. No matter, he finds it very enticing. The moment his shirt is over his head he crashes his lips to hers pushing her onto her back. Her fingertips ghost over his abdomen blazing a trail to his back where her gentle touch turns forceful tugging him towards her. They absorb each other. Each kiss. Each caress. Her hands brush over his and he grabs them entangling their fingers. He kisses her passionately emptying every missed opportunity and misunderstanding into the effort. Catching his breath his deep lingering kiss becomes shallow pecks. He kisses her once. Twice. Three times before disconnecting entirely to look into her eyes. His heart quickens noting the desire, the need. For him. Unwittingly, he opens his mouth prepared to free his heart, "I-", but the words he's been hiding in his heart die on his tongue upon further inspection. He can't tell her he loves her. Not now. She doesn't love him. She _needs_ him, but she doesn't love him and if he follows through with this he can't take it back. She wouldn't be able to take it back. And the regret he knows will plague her could keep her away from him forever, by his own doing or her immense guilt. So, for now he does what is right for them both. "I can't – we can't do this."

**So here it is. Hope you liked it. I'm trying what with the little the show is giving me I'm pulling from nowhere. AND though I really like Owen on the show and though he may seem a little OOC I think I did okay I think he would say and react this way if this situation were to ever occur because although he is a carefree kind of guy he does have a competitive side and that's the side I'm going with here. **

**Only one more chapter left to this part of the story and then there's a sequel and I know I said it would be in Jane's pov but idk I kind of like writing from Grayson's pov. I'll figure it out and that will be up shortly (hopefully) after chapter 4 of this fic. **

**With all that said review let me know what you think about this chapter what you want to see happen in the sequel and whose pov. **


	4. Chapter 4

**So this is the last chapter in Not Again but there is a sequel being written now as well as a companion piece that will include one-shot like excerpts in Jane's pov from this story. **

**Also sorry for the late update. Life has been a doozie. There was a family death and then I discovered Hunger Games the books and then I got sick which I kind of still am. But here you have it. I'm starting to write again so hopefully the sequel will be up soon. **

**Thanks for all the readers who reviewed chapter 3 and favorite and followed. **

He's always watched her. He finds her intriguing. Her ability to overcome any circumstance wearing her beaming smile is endearing to him. He didn't realize how much he needed the stretch of lips over perfectly white teeth from her to brighten his often dreary work days until now.

Now he watches for her.

Jane returned to work the day following their intimate encounter, but it is mere here say as far as he is concerned because he hasn't seen her. In passing or through the windows of her office. Her blinds are closed. Have been since her elusive return. He was inclined to believe Terry was covering for her boss, but his doubts were dispelled when he questioned Parker of her whereabouts. The firm partner told him she'd been swamped with multiple cases. Scavenging through boxes upon boxes of files, and when she wasn't in her office buried in files, she was out hunting down witness and pleading cases in court.

She is avoiding him. For the past two weeks, Jane has been skillfully avoiding him. So, he's camping out in his office, door opened, blinds drawn watching and waiting for her to exit the doors of her office. Word around the building is she came in earlier than usual and hasn't left once. For anything. It was five hours ago that some secretary temp told him this, and he's starting to worry.

Maybe they were mistaken and she's left the office. Or she never came in. He couldn't know for sure. And he certainly couldn't confront her here in the office. Jane is not averse to causing a scene, and he wouldn't put her in a position to air their laundry. It wouldn't look good for either of them. Therefore, he does what he's becoming quite adept at. Waiting. Either she'll show or she won't, but he has work to do and taking a break to stare at her door for a while won't hinder his progress.

Until he's completed his work that is exactly what he does. Finish a report. Stare at Jane's door. Search through legal briefs for incriminating evidence. Stare at Jane's door. Add said evidence to argument. Stare at Jane's door.

As his day is done, so goes his mild belief that he'll catch Jane today. Why did he permit himself to believe he would in the first place? He's been following the same routine for the past week with no results.

Initially, he'd given her the space he knew she needed. She needed time to mull things over. To process what had actually happened or rather not happened between the two. He didn't want to push her away by moving too quickly. Heck, he needed time to figure out what he planned on doing next. What he wanted from her.

It only took him a week to confirm the rapidly blooming love he's felt for her over the last several months. Distance couldn't make his heart grow fonder because it belonged to her. It had long ago involuntarily tethered itself to her unbeknownst to him and refused to return. Not that he wants it to. He loves Jane. Deep in his heart he believes he will only love Jane.

Pushing away from his desk, he tidies his office putting everything in its place before shutting out the light, closing and locking the door. He checks his watch as he makes his way to the elevator. It seems as though he's misjudged the time; it is not nearly as late as he thought it to be. He still has time to stop by his favorite bar for a bite of dinner.

Once on the elevator, he gets a little queasy, the feeling he gets when he's forgotten his lucky socks when he has to argue a big case. Right now he has that feeling. But he's not due in court for another week, however, his gut never lies; he has to have forgotten something. But what?

The bell dings. The elevator door slides open. He steps out in mindless determination.

The sun has set. The streets are alight. They flash into his glazed eyes. The focus of a madman shimmering therein. Or just a man. No matter, he finds himself exactly where he purposed himself two weeks ago. Though this time around the confusion and fear is nonexistent, yet he remains in the car grasping at every word, each piece of evidence for an argument he knows he has no business presenting, but will anyway. She has to know how he feels so that their transcendental moment can have accurate context. He loves her, and he doesn't want her to think otherwise. Worst case scenario, she believes he brushed her off because he realized he wasn't interested. Not the case. Not so bad scenario, she thinks he pitied her but decided not to take advantage. He could handle that. He may not be the hard hitting quick fire lawyer that Jane is but he can try. He has every reason to.

Stacy answers the door. She's surprised to see him. Jane told her what happened, but she suspects there were some bits left out. Jane wasn't as forthcoming with the details as she normally is. But she's not here. Working late, as has become her usual for the past couple of weeks. But he's here and he was here when Jane broke things off officially with Owen, so, she can totally siphon more information from him. He's usually open with such things; yet, he's being completely closed lipped. Upon realizing she's going to get nothing from him, she retires to her room leaving him to wait for Jane alone, offhandedly mentioning that her roommate texted her that she'd be home in ten.

Ten minutes. He has to wait ten minutes. They go by as any ten minutes do. Agonizingly slow. He would have felt more comfortable if Stacey would have kept him company. Time always flies when you're ignoring it, but when you're watching the hands on a clock tick, time might as well have stopped.

When finally he's given up the task of alternating between watching the door then the clock, she walks in. Back first.

"Hey, Stace, sorry I'm late."

"Jane."

He stands. She startles. Drops her bag. "Oh, Grayson. Hey?"

"Hey." He smiles the crooked one that seems to grace his face at times like this.

"Uh, I, um…," shaking her head clear of the cobwebs, "I forgot my, uh, scarf in my office. I should go back to get it." She turns to grab the door knob.

"Uh, Jane, you're wearing your scarf."

She giggles. "Oh, I am. I must have-"

"You've been avoiding me."

"Hmf- I have not…been avoiding you. I've just been…busy." It wasn't a lie. She'd taken on more cases per _her_ request.

"Avoiding me."

"Grayson, I was-"

"You were."

"Okay, you got me. I've been avoiding you. Is that why you're here?"

"Kind of. I think we need to talk about-"

"It was no big deal. I was out of my mind. Thank goodness you stopped it when you did because that would have been a big mistake. You. Me. Big mistake. So you see we don't have anything to talk about. We both agree it was a mistake that shouldn't have happened. So, you can be on your way." The door is opened. She opened the door for him. There is a smile on her face big bright, but what he doesn't notice is her eyes. Filled with tears she can't allow him to see. And he doesn't notice the slight rise in her pitch that causes her voice to crack.

He's too preoccupied with the notion that she's kicking him out.

"Jane, wait."

"Really, Grayson. It's okay. And if you're worried about me avoiding you, don't. We're friends. It's forgotten."

"That's just it, Jane, I don't want to forget it."

Startled two times over, Jane eyes buck and her breath hitches. "What are you saying?" she rasps.

He clears his throat. It's now or never. Maybe not ever, but much later than he would like. "I'm saying that I care for you. I more than care – Jane…I love you."

Her eyes belie nothing. Neither does her whispered utterance of his name. Yet he feels the disbelief rolling off of her in massive waves. "I know you may think this is coming from left field, but I assure you it isn't." He explains himself, but she doesn't respond. She does close the door and walk past him taking a seat on the couch. He doesn't join her not knowing where the line is. He's crossed one already resulting in this semi-zombielike state, but he does continue to speak. "I want you to understand the reason I didn't – why I stopped us from going any farther that night."

"You don't have to." She finally responds and it's definitely not what he wants to hear.

"I want to. I need you to know that I didn't want to stop. It's the last thing that I wanted to do, but I couldn't in good conscience let you go through with it considering the state you were in. Owen was your fiancé…and you had just broken things off with him and you didn't want to have…make love to me, and if we ever – I want you to want to…with me."

As he speaks he walks over to sit on the coffee table directly in front of Jane. Who immediately starts shaking her head the tears she previously held at bay trickling down her cheeks.

"I – Grayson…"

"Jane," he reaches forward cradling her cheek in his hand wiping away her tears with his thumb. He's secretly shocked to feel her lean into his hand. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I understand." He doesn't expect anything from her. "We will always be friends."

She jerks back from his touch. "Huh?"

"I get it. You don't feel that way about me. It's fine."

She shakes her head. "Grayson…I'm – now's not the-"

"I know. I'll go." He gets up to leave.

"Wait. That's not what I mean. What I meant to say is you're wrong. I do – I've had feeling for you since I met you. But now…I'm just not ready to dive head first into another relationship. I don't know when I'll be ready for something serious again. But just know that I do, Grayson." She places a hand on his well shaven cheek.

She has feelings for him, but she's not ready. She's just not ready. He can work with that. He didn't expect it, but he can certainly work with it. He's been waiting for his chance to be something to Jane and now he has that opportunity. He would wait for her. He'd be glad to wait for her. He grabs her hand from his face and moves it to his lips and places a firm kiss to her knuckles. "As long as you know that I'm waiting. Whenever you're ready just remember I'm waiting."

Tears are steadily streaming from her eyes when he leans in to kiss her softly on the lips. Then walks out of the door.


End file.
